


The Coyote in the Clearing

by thisnewjoe



Series: Title TBA [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Childhood Trauma, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Coyote Malia Tate, Gen, Pre-Canon, Were-Creatures, Werecoyote Malia, Werewolf Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 08:43:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10532919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisnewjoe/pseuds/thisnewjoe
Summary: It's a full moon and the coyote dreams and plays, and wonders about the wolf in the far distance.





	

The early spring leaves and flower buds comb gently through the coyote's fur as she runs through the bushes. Malia patrols the edges of her territory, sniffing the air as she runs back and forth, stopping now and again to look and listen for any sign of potential intruders or other danger.

While humans walk and run these trails frequently during the daytime, they avoid the woods at night. The werecoyote is at home in the wilderness now in ways she never felt as a human. Maybe she was once afraid here, but she doesn't remember it. 

Tonight, the last human running the trails had left. He was followed by a medium-sized and muscular dog that Malia suspected was trying to find her. It looked around and snuffled at the air while its human tried to get it in the car. When the door clicked and the engine started, Malia jumped out of her hiding place, took a tauntingly playful stance toward the dog in the car, and yelped at it when the dog realized she was there. After huffing at it, she dashed-off and begin her patrol.

When she'd completed a round of the larger territory around her den, she'd noticed a tickling feeling along her spine. She looked at the hills, whose tree-lined tops were just now being lit by the first light of the full moon.

She feels more alive tonight, and she isn't alone. The woods seem to be breathing in with her, feeling abundant and joyful. The insects are noisy and the moths patter through the air above her, out of reach (though she still tries to nip some out of the air), and the bats were up there somewhere, feasting almost silently in the darkness above.

On some nights when the moon is full, she will hear howling called across the forest. The wolf is far away from here, and when it howls, sometimes it is like it is calling to the stars. It's a sound of strength and love, and she likes to think that the wolf is singing to the stars. As far as she can tell, the wolf never gets a howl in reply, so she sometimes yips and howls back to it with her tiny voice. She does not know if it is normal for wolves to be alone, whereas she has learned over time that she is somewhat typical of coyotes in wanting to be on her own most of the time.

But there are also nights when the howling of the wolf is more like a yelling cry. It's a quieter howl, a little harder to hear, and during those nights, she feels sadness in her chest and doesn't want to be out for long. She thinks of her family when the wolf cries like this, and she sometimes stays deep in her den, tucking her nose in the folds of the sweater she'd dragged there long ago, or into the soft embrace of a small doll she'd been protecting since she'd dragged it from the car after she'd first transformed. She was new to her coyote form, and when she found her mother and sister were dead, she'd grabbed these two things and ran from there.

She returns to her den, satisfied her territory has not been invaded, and gently grabs the doll from her den and trots with it over the hills to a clearing tucked in a deep circle of trees and spiked bushes that have the most delicious berries in the summer.

Outside the tall grass of the clearing, Malia sits the doll onto a rock that reaches above the tallest grasses, and she noses the doll into a sitting position with her pointed snout. With her audience properly seated, she steps back a couple paces, yips once with ears perked-up and tail wagging proudly, and she gives it a coyote grin.

She leaps at a moth that had flown too low and munches it while pouncing across the grass, pushing off from all fours and landing silently farther along.

In a sudden crouch, she puts her ears low and lays her tail on the ground. She's a mighty hunter now, ready to chase some imaginary prey. She catches the beast and brings herself pridefully up to the high rock, dancing alternately from one forefoot to the other, as though she were a fancy horse parading for a queen.

Then she turns aggressive, growling at a dangerous enemy. She barks out orders to her army, calling them to battle against the bad ones and chasing back-and-forth across one half of the clearing. 

She stops and does a coyote laugh when she sees the moon has risen fully above the trees, and she plops her back end down in the grass, swiping her fluffy tail side-to-side, rustling the fresh green growth and panting happily. She howls at the moon, thinking of her fresh victories in battle, and turning to the queen as she boasts excitedly in coyote-speak of her defeat of the worst army the kingdom has ever seen.

She snorts in a dust mote and sneezes, catching herself off-guard and falling on her side. She pants a little, mouth open, tail flapping at the ground lazily.

It's a good night, and a perfect time for a nap.

**Author's Note:**

> This my second contribution as a writer to the fanfiction community. Please share your thoughts about what works and what doesn't work for you in this story.


End file.
